Elegant Black

by M. L. Bullock

  Take that, Coach Denton, you rat bastard. I must be pretty darn fit to clear that many blocks so quickly, and I’m not even breathing hard.

  And as I turned onto my street, I froze. There was a familiar figure ahead of me. The freak from the bus, the bare-armed, ripped-shirt rocker, stood on the sidewalk puffing on a cigarette. The red tip of the cig glowed evilly in the growing darkness. He saw me, and I could see that strange, wide leonine smile spread across his face, and then he glanced up at my house. I could clearly see Naomi getting dressed in the open window. She was in her slip, brushing her dark blond hair, oblivious to the creep that lingered outside to enjoy the free show. The weirdo flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and walked away but not before I yelled at him.

  “Hey!” Before I could sprint off down the sidewalk after him, a thought that both sickened and excited me, my shriveled neighbor from across the street, Mrs. Sherman, came out of her house with her two feisty Dobermans. At least they were on leashes today. They barked at me, as if I’d been the one hanging around outside the house, and sniffed me but quickly turned their attention to the spot where the stranger had stood just a few seconds ago.

  “No need to shout, young Levi. I had my hearing aid adjusted, and I hear quite well now. I can hear everything within a hundred feet of my house. I’m like the Bionic Woman. Isn’t that a hoot?”

  “That’s great, Mrs. Sherman. Good to see you.”

  “Tell your mother I’ve got some extra roast in the refrigerator. You should come round and get it, but I do want my Tupperware back. Cut it out, Blue! Oh dear. These boys are on the trail of something very interesting. Tell your mother what I said now!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said as her Dobermans dragged her down the sidewalk. She fussed at them the whole time, but they didn’t slow their pace at all. They must have smelled the weirdo. What the hell did that creep want, and how did he know where I lived? I had a sudden urge to put my eyes on all the people I loved, Deb, Lisa and even Naomi. This guy was clearly up to some kind of mischief.

  I won’t lie, I looked over my shoulders a few times while I unlocked the door. Once I shed my coat and locked the door again, I spent a few minutes peeking out the window, but the guy never turned back up. What was going on? I’d smoked some weed last night, but we didn’t drop acid. I mean, I wasn’t into hallucinogenic drugs and never had been, but that was the only explanation I could come up with. That had to be it, right?

  A hand on my shoulder scared the hell out of me. “Whoa, son! What are you doing? Trying to put me in an early grave?” Naomi clutched her heart as if I’d startled her and not the other way around. “Are you waiting on your sister? I’m not sure she has her keys, and I have to step out. Where are my keys now? I swear, I’m so scatterbrained these days.”

  “Step out? Where are you going?” I didn’t mean to give her the third degree, but she never went anywhere except to the doctor or the pharmacy and on rare occasions the health food store.

  She frowned as she pulled her keys out of her macramé purse. “Oh, there they are. Good place for them. Since when do I have to tell you where I’m going? I have a date. Is that so hard to believe?”

  I collapsed in the chair, suddenly exhausted. This was too much. “A date? What kind of date?”

  Her thin lips pressed together in a frown, and she swung her hair back with her hand. “The kind two people go on. Now if you’ll excuse me, I better go or I’m going to be late for the bus.”

  Forget how bizarre it was that my mother was going on a date…what about the weirdo outside? He’d been watching Naomi get dressed. Was she lying to me? Did she know this guy? Not that I cared one way or another, but she had to know what a creep this bus guy was, the kind of creep that would likely be a serial killer.

  “It’s not safe out there. Why don’t you stay here tonight? What are we supposed to eat, Naomi?”

  She snapped the wooden hinge on her purse closed. “You’re a grown man, Levi! Honestly, cook your own dinner. This is 1977, you know. Women aren’t here to serve your kind. We’re people too!”

  “Serve my kind? What kind is that? I’m your offspring, Naomi Wallace. Or have you forgotten all about Deb and me?”

  Without another word, she slapped me across the face and stormed toward the door as it swung open. Debbie had a satchel full of books on one shoulder and her purse on the other. “What’s going on?” she asked suspiciously as Naomi pushed past and slammed the door behind her.

  “Same shit, different day. How was your study session with David?”

  “Same answer as you. I’m beginning to think David is getting bored with me.” She hung her purse up on the peg as I rubbed my face. I was sure Naomi had left a handprint on my cheek, but Deb didn’t say anything. For that I was grateful.

  “What do you mean?”

  She flashed her sad smile at me. “You know, this is not something I want to talk to my brother about. What’s for supper? My lunch is long gone.”

  “Probably nothing.”

  We walked into the kitchen together to confirm our suspicions that there wasn’t a darn thing to eat in this house. At least Mrs. Sherman had a roast we could go get. A tough, chewy roast if it was anything like the last one she sent our way. But to our surprise, we found a meatloaf on the stove with a saucepan full of mashed potatoes. No doubt the potatoes were instant, and the meatloaf was as tasteless as it always was, but we ate it nonetheless. As we washed up I asked her, “Have you seen anyone weird hanging around the house recently?”

  “Weird like how?” She flung some suds in my direction, which I happily flung back.

  “I don’t know. Like strange-looking.”

  “Just your friends. You guys really do need to chill out with the smoke, Levi. It gets all in the house, and one of these days, Mrs. Sherman is going to get a whiff of it and call the cops.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah. At least it’s a better smell than those clove cigarettes Myron smokes. Yuck.”

  Someone was pounding on the door now. I reached for the kitchen towel, dried my hands quickly and walked into the foyer with Deb behind me. “Stay back,” I said as I opened the door a crack. She shrugged at me like I’d lost my marbles. Maybe I had. I was beginning to think perhaps Jimmy had put some of his “special sauce” in the reefer.

  Mrs. Sherman was standing on my porch in her nightgown, curlers, slippers and an all-too-flimsy robe. Her two dogs were nowhere to be seen. “There you are, young man! I’m warning you now to cut it out. If I hear one more filthy word coming out of your mouth, just one more, I’m going to call the police.” She pointed her swollen finger at me.

  “What? I’m not sure I—”

  “Don’t play games with me. I can hear every word you are saying. Every single word. How dare you say such filthy things to an old lady like me! Stop it this minute!”

  “I haven’t said anything, Mrs. Sherman. I’ve been here with my sister, Debbie. You must be hearing someone else. Is someone bothering you?” I glanced up and down the sidewalk, but there wasn’t a soul out tonight. No one except Mrs. Sherman.

  “I can hear you, Levi Wallace. Stop it right this minute!”

  Debbie interjected, “Mrs. Sherman, please. Is there someone I can call for you? I don’t understand.”

  The old lady wasn’t having any of it. She was crying now, and her plastic curlers shook in her hair. “I know it was you, Levi Wallace. I know your voice. Now stop it. It’s…indecent to say those things to me. If you come near me again, I’m going to sic Black and Blue on you. I mean it!”

  Together Debbie and I watched Mrs. Sherman shuttle across the street, give me one last angry stare and slam the door shut. This had turned out to be one damn weird day.

  I was glad for it to come to an end. Or so I thought.

  Chapter Four—Levi

  I knew I was dreaming because I had never heard such sweet music before. Never. Not even Beethoven struck such awe in me, and yeah, I secretly loved the classics. Every one o
f them. These notes were sweet like I’d never known sweet. It was like they had a strange tangibility to them, like they had their own personalities and powers. This one, a high C, it liked to be seen so it hung in the air a bit longer than the rest. And that one, the D flat, oh yes, it was kind of slinky, it belonged in a ballad or maybe a blues tune. And here they all were, ready for me to put them where they belonged. I was their master; they were here to do my bidding. Ah, what a wonderful feeling! But then I began to question it all. And as anyone who dreams knows, whenever you begin to question yourself in a dream, the whole experience loses a bit of magic.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t surrounded by glowing notes or hearing plaintive strains. I was by myself. Everything grew quiet except for the sound of people. People whispering and watching and waiting for me. I could hear them but could not see them yet. It was like this was a concert and I was the maestro. I stood in the center of the room trying to get my bearings. I could not discern walls or a ceiling, but there had to be a floor because I was standing on it. It felt kind of spongy beneath my dress shoes—hey, what was this getup I was wearing?—but it was there nonetheless.

  A beam of light flicked on, and it was so bright I could barely see. I was in the spotlight and in my hands was my guitar, Lizzie. I’d never intended to name my guitar, but Lisa thought it would be a cool thing to do so I did. All the real musicians name their guitars, Levi. What should I do now? The silence was deafening. Nobody spoke as I flicked the pick in my fingers and began to strum the strings. I knew exactly what I wanted to play.

  Elegant Black!

  I started in D and picked out the intro. The audience gasped, and as I played on I could see their faces. Yes, I could see them all! They loved my music and were singing along with me. Behind me were the rest of my bandmates. Jimmy stayed on track, Jackie hummed and stroked his guitar with rare perfection, Myron tapped the bass and Lisa stood beside me singing in a low, sexy voice as she shook her tambourine. We nailed each note, each riff, each passage. It was as if we’d conceived this song together, all of us, and this was our baby.

  But that couldn’t be right. Rex Teaser and Brice Melancholy wrote this song. They wrote it and they performed it and it was their baby.

  But this…this complete adoration. The crowd was screaming my name!

  Levi! Levi! Le-vi!

  I raised my hands in triumph and let the adoration wash over me. I reveled in it.

  Levi! Levi!

  But then a dark figure stepped into the spotlight with me, only I couldn’t see his face. Not yet. The crowd’s collective voice stilled, and I could only hear one voice. A familiar voice. I woke up and shot straight up.

  “Levi!” My sister was screaming for me. I was on my feet and running for the door right away. My guitar case was open in the middle of the room, and I fell over the damn thing as I raced to the door. I could’ve sworn I put that away.

  “Shit!” I yelled as I got back up and hurried down the hallway. “Debbie!”

  Debbie was sitting up in her bed, her hair a tangled mess like she’d been fighting with someone, her face red and wet with tears. My eyes instantly went to the open window; the curtains were dangling outside, and some of Deb’s treasures had been knocked off her pink painted desk.

  “Debbie! Are you alright?”

  “I thought I was dreaming. I was dreaming, but it wasn’t a dream…a man was here! I woke up and he was holding my hand and he kissed my arm and…then he bit me! Oh, God! I thought it was a dream!” Debbie broke into sobs as she held her arm up to me. What in the world? Did she bite herself in her dream? No way! No way! I raced to the window and poked my head out, but there wasn’t anyone around. Not even an alley cat.

  “I’m calling the cops. Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

  “What’s going on in here? Are you two fighting?” Naomi staggered into the room, her sleeping mask slid up to the top of her head. I could see what a true disaster she was without her makeup on. She was the one who needed the hospital.

  “I had a bad dream, Naomi,” Debbie said in a hopeless voice.

  “Oh, is that all? I thought someone was being murdered in here.” She frowned and paused in the doorway. “Do you want a sleeping pill?”

  “She doesn’t want any pills. You can go back to bed now.”

  “Fine, but keep it down.”

  I couldn’t believe how completely and utterly selfish she was. It was okay that Deb had been attacked, that we could have all been killed in our sleep, as long as we died quietly.

  “Don’t judge her, Levi. You don’t know what she’s been through,” Deb said as she rubbed her wrist and slid out of the bed.

  “I’m calling the police.”

  “No, don’t call them. It will just upset Naomi. I’m okay. I know better than to leave that window open. I can’t think why I did that. I never do that. I’m sorry, Levi.”

  “Stop it. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. Do you know what the guy looked like? Can you describe him?”

  She flipped the light on in her bathroom and put her wrist under the water to clean it. I plundered the medicine cabinet for some antibiotic cream and bandages. “I’m not exactly sure. It was dark, and you know what…I might have been dreaming. Please don’t be mad. All I can remember was I saw you in my dream. You were playing the guitar, playing that song you guys have been practicing. Anyway, you were playing and there was this guy. He had wavy black hair, kind of long, and he was kind of sexy. He was smiling at me, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he bit me instead. He bit my arm! Oh, God! I didn’t dream it! How is that possible? Am I dead or something, Levi?”

  I held her close to me. The water ran in the sink. The tile was cold under my feet. It was very cold now, too cold. “No, you aren’t dead. You had a bad dream. Sometimes weird things happen in dreams.” How could I tell her that I was in that dream too? That we’d been dreaming the same thing? I couldn’t do it. That would totally freak her out. Like I was freaked out now!

  “I don’t understand any of this, Levi. What can this mean?”

  “It means I have to stop smoking in the basement. I’m off the stuff, sis. I swear. Obviously, we’re both hallucinating.”

  “Both hallucinating? What do you mean?”

  “I mean that some weird things happened to me today too. I think Jimmy laced the pot or something. I swear, no more smoking. It must have gotten in the house or…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “You always blame yourself for everything, but I’m glad to hear you are quitting. You’re too smart to be a pothead, Levi. Can I stay in your room tonight? I don’t want to be in here by myself.”

  “I have a better idea. Let’s camp out downstairs. Watch some TV.”

  “What about Naomi?”

  “What about her? She’s probably on her second or third pill by now. She won’t hear a damn thing. Grab your pillow and blanket.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed my cheek and I waited for her, then we stopped by my room to grab my own pillow and blanket. I pretended not to notice that the guitar was back in its case and standing in the corner of the room right where I left it before I went to bed tonight.

  Strange shit going on here.

  We went downstairs and found a flick to watch. It didn’t take long for Deb to fall back asleep, but I never did. Not once.

  Okay, maybe once but only long enough to know it wasn’t safe.

  The evil-faced black-haired rocker was stalking me—and Debbie. And somehow he was in our dreams.

  Chapter Five—Levi

  “What was in that weed, Jimmy? You laced it, didn’t you?” I rubbed my face as I mumbled into the phone. I didn’t care if Deb heard me, but Naomi wasn’t cool at all about smoking, even though she consumed wine and prescription medication like they were party favors. She stepped out of the kitchen with her red pen and folded newspaper in hand. She gave me a hard look, as if I were tying up the phone line, as if she were really looking for a job.

  “No way, man. Who
told you that? That’s a damn lie!” Jimmy’s voice sounded scratchy; he must have just woken up. I didn’t care if I woke him. It was almost nine o’clock on a Saturday morning. Jimmy needed to roll his lazy ass out of bed like the rest of the world. God, this kid was such a slacker.

  “I don’t believe you, Jimmy Logan. I think you put something in the shit and now I’m hallucinating. Tell me the truth, damn it!”

  “I’m telling you the truth. Now get lost. And find yourself another drummer!” He hung up the phone and left me staring at the receiver. How could I know if that was the truth or not? It was hard to tell because Jimmy lied about everything from the color of the sky to his scholastic achievements. He was a bald-faced, straight-up, no-good liar. How else could I explain the hell that I was going through, that Debbie and I both experienced last night? I was so exhausted that I toyed with the idea of taking a nap before work at twelve, but that would mean not seeing my girl. And I hadn’t told her the good news yet about the tickets. Man, I have to tell Debbie about the ring! If I don’t give her a heads-up and she hears it from somewhere else, she’ll be pissed. I’d sleep tonight—today was the day! Probably the most important day of my life. Tonight I would see the Black Knights and ask Lisa the big question. Yeah, no time for sleep, man. Slugging down some coffee, I put the chipped mug in the sink. “Phone’s open,” I called to Naomi, who was lounging in the living room with her newspaper. She mumbled something as I climbed the steps two by two in search of my sister.